


Desperate Measures

by ayumie



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: (Possible) Dubious Consent, Coda, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Kinky, M/M, Nick needs money, Orgasm Delay, PWP, Porn, season 5 episode 10, so much porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:20:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayumie/pseuds/ayumie
Summary: Nick is desperate to get to the 100.000 $ to buy the Grimm books from Monroe's uncle (Season 5, Episode 10). Whoever does he know who has that kind money? And what will he have to do to get it? Turns out, Renard has some very … detailed ideas.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HotaruMuraki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotaruMuraki/gifts).



> All right, I can't believe I wrote this. I blame the show. This is what too much angst makes me do. Potentially dark content with a twist – for details, please check the end-notes (spoilers!).

Nick made himself stand straight, willed himself not to blush, not to think. He didn't consider himself a prude, but standing naked in an expensively furnished living-room, being openly appraised by another man – his fully dressed commanding officer, no less – wasn't something he had ever imagined. Renard was circling him slowly, eyes predatory as he trailed inquisitive fingers down Nick's shoulder, his flank.

“Very nice. Now, I could give you something to make things easier, but I don't think you're going to need it.”

Nick suppressed a startled gasp as Renard's thumb brushed his nipple. He hadn't known what to expect, but certainly not this – all nerve-wracking tension and unexpected heat pooling in his stomach. Renard chuckled, could probably feel his pulse speeding up.

“Get on your knees. You can do that for 100 grand, can't you?”

Said silkily, confidently. Nick knelt, legs all but buckling. Renard moved to stand right in front of him, triumph written in every line of his body. Nick licked suddenly dry lips, watched those green eyes darken. He didn't move as Renard opened his pants, couldn't help but stare as his cock sprang free, swollen already, tip glistening. The money, the Grimm books, suddenly seemed very far away. Renard cradled himself for a moment, clearly savoring the anticipation. Then he reached out, carded his fingers through Nick's hair. 

“You know what to do.”

He did. The first taste was a shock, sharp and tangy, unlike anything he had ever imagined. Dragging his tongue over the head, Nick stalled for a moment, felt his stomach clench. All too soon the fingers in his hair tightened, dragging him forward.

“Open your mouth, Grimm.”

God. Nick did his best not to choke as Renard pushed his cock past his lips and deep into his mouth. He could feel the underside on his tongue, veins and ridges and surprisingly soft skin. It felt like he couldn't breathe, like he was drowning in the taste, the smell and Nick heard himself whimper. Unaccountably, heat was rising in his body and he made another noise, hands going to Renard's hips to steady himself. It was all … so much. Trying to draw enough breath through his nose, swallowing around the hard flesh jammed into his mouth, the small hum of approval that got him. 

Nick found himself tightening his lips around the shaft just to hear it again. Then Renard was thrusting into his mouth, the hand in Nick's hair keeping him steady, and there was no more time to think. There was no more time for anything at all and even air ceased to matter. Renard gave no warning before he came, merely tightened his grip and thrust deep. It was too much to swallow it all, but Nick tried, fingers grasping at the rich fabric of Renard's pants. Salt and musk and something else underneath, like some sort of exotic spice. Zauberbiest. 

When Nick was finally allowed to pull back, his cheeks were blazing. He didn't need a mirror to know what he looked like – hair mussed, lips red and swollen and smeared with come. He didn't need to look down to know that he was embarrassingly hard. Renard would have noticed as well, because he was smiling darkly even as he ran his thumb over Nick's mouth.

“Sweet. But not worth 100000 $.”

Unable to think of an adequate reply, Nick tilted his head into the touch and bit down sharply. A sharp hiss, but Renard didn't pull his hand away, merely leaned down to whisper:

“You will go to the bedroom. Second door to the right. You will get into bed and you will kneel again. I want you on your hands and knees, waiting for me. I want you to think about what I am going to do to you, what I am willing to pay that much money for.”

Abruptly, Renard stepped away. Nick gritted his teeth, resisted the urge to wipe his mouth. Grateful that he had retained enough control to push himself to his feet in one smooth motion, he held his head stubbornly high.

“I'm not a whore.”

Those cool, green eyes raked him from head to toe, taking in detail, including the evidence of his arousal. Smile deepening, Renard reached out to once more brush his fingers over Nick's lips.

“Right now, that's exactly what you are. A bit late for regrets, isn't it? It would be a shame – since you've already come this far.”

Biting back on a curse, Nick twisted away. Renard was right about one thing, though. It was too late for regrets. He had chosen this and, what was worse, the idea of that bedroom, what might happen in there, was gnawing at his mind. Squaring his shoulders, Nick turned and started down the hallway. He could feel Renard's eyes on him the entire way.

The sheets felt cool under his hands, almost slick. High thread-count, probably insanely expensive. This had been his own choice and, with sudden, spiteful inspiration, Nick thought that he might as well do it right. He did kneel, shoulders on the mattress, legs spread wide. After a moment of hesitation, he brought his arms over his head, fingers twisting into the sheets. When Renard entered the room, his sharp exhalation felt like triumph. Nick didn't move as he heard the other man pace behind him, didn't move even as he heard the hiss of a belt being pulled free, the rustle of clothes being removed. The mattress dipped and a large hand settled in the small of his back.

“Look at me.”

Nick looked over his shoulder, couldn't help but stare. There was no denying that Renard was attractive, all long, lean lines and smooth, tanned skin stretching over clearly defined muscles. Not something he ought to be thinking. Renard's hands cupped his ass, squeezing briefly before pulling his cheeks apart. Cool air hit damp, heated skin, followed by the casual brush of fingertips.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you have a pretty hole?”

A fresh wave of heat spread through Nick's body, making him shiver and press his face into the mattress.Instantly sharp fingernails dug into his hip, a whole new level of sensation, one that shouldn't be exciting.

“You are going to answer me.”

Arching his back just a little more sharply, Nick was proud to hear that his voice wasn't shaking.

“No. I can't say anyone ever has.”

“Mmh. Quite the oversight. Because you do. Although I imagine it'll be even prettier slick with lube and stretched around my cock.”

It took Nick a moment to realize that the low moan echoing through the room was his own and he immediately bit down on it. The press of fingers returned, slicker than before and more insistent. Shuddering at the familiar stretch, push, burn, Nick willed himself to relax. He was given precious little time to adjust. All too soon those fingers started to work his ass in a steady rhythm – a few shallow thrusts, followed by a scissoring motion and a deep, twisting slide that sent sparks up his spine. It was as though his body was suffused with heat and lust and humiliation. His cock was heavy with it, aching as it strained into thin air every time the angle changed and a new shock of pleasure lanced through him. 

“Tell me, Grimm, do you ever touch yourself like this? When you are alone?”

At first Renard's voice barely registered. Then the words sank in and, for a moment Nick's mind went blank even as his cock, as of yet untouched, twitched, weeping precum. 

“I believe we agreed that you are going to answer me.”

Renard's fingers stilled, a subtle form of punishment. Nick suppressed a whine of protest. How could Renard sound so utterly detached, as though they were in his office, talking about overdue paperwork? Trying to clear his head, Nick shifted. He knew what Renard was doing, of course, using those questions to keep him off-balance, adrift. Damn the man. Well, two could play that game. He could take whatever Renard dished out. He wouldn't be beaten.

“I- yes. Sometimes.”

A low, appreciative chuckle and still Renard's wouldn't resume his earlier rhythm. His free hand followed the line of Nick's spine instead, settling just below his nape as he leaned forward.

“What about Juliette? Did she touch you this way?”

Nick would have reared up, if he could have. Instead he was reduced to a scrabbling madly at the sheets, then crying out mindlessly as Renard's fingers once more pushed in deep, grazed the spot inside of him that seemed to be wired straight to his cock. 

“We're not talking about Juliette,” he finally bit out through gritted teeth. The pressure on his shoulders eased as Renard returned to his previous position.

“Very well, I can concede that much, I suppose. Let us go back to your private pleasures, then. Do you ever use anything other than your fingers?”

“W-what?!”

“Really, Nick, do try to focus. I do not appreciate having to repeat myself. Do you ever use anything other than your fingers when you pleasure yourself?”

Damn this, Nick suddenly decided. There was little point denying that he wanted – that he needed – his mind balked at putting a word to it. His body was having fewer compunctions: He was shifting continuously now, hand surreptitiously sneaking down his side, towards his sadly neglected cock. Damn all of it.

“Yesss...”

A warm noise of approval and Nick was starting to crave that as well. Not enough, though, to keep him from closing his hand around his own cock, swallowing a moan at the relief of it. Instantly, his wrist was caught in a bruising grip.

“None of that. So you use – what? A toy?”

Nick nodded even as his hand was inexorably dragged from where he needed it to be and his hips jerked forward, then backward again as Renard's fingers threatened to slip from his body. He did groan then, a low keening noise that sounded desperate even to his own ears.

“A toy, then. Did you buy it yourself? Go to some shop and tell the cashier that you want to mix things up with your girlfriend, all the while thinking about how you'd like to push it up that greedy little hole of yours right then and there? Or did you order it online? Scroll through page after page of the stuff, imagining how each would feel inside of you, how thick, how long? Should I buy you a toy, Nick? Something to remind you of tonight?”

At those last words, Nick's traitorous body clenched around Renard's fingers. He needed more. He needed- 

“I like that idea, don't you? Think about it, Nick: I'd call you into office in the morning, draw the blinds and fit you with something nice and thick. Think you could work like that? Paperwork of course, because I'll be wanting the pleasure of watching you squirm in your seat, knowing exactly what is going on.”

It was too much. Blindly, instinctively, Nick reached for his erection. It wouldn't take much, just a few strokes and- His hand was once more cruelly removed and, what was worse, Renard withdrew completely, leaving him empty, craving. He was begging now, with sounds if not with words, low keening noises that seemed to rip themselves from his throat.

Nick froze as, after a long stretch of abandonment, hands lifted his cock and balls, expertly maneuvered them, touch of leather against sensitive skin, tightening slowly. For a moment the blunt pressure came as something of a relief. The reprieve didn't last. Fingers trailed down his erection, thumb teasing at the head, smearing precum. 

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear: You are here for my pleasure and I intend to make the most of it. You may ask for what you want – nicely, mind you – but you won't get to come before I am done with you. Do you understand?”

Instinct taking over, Nick somehow found the strength to push himself up on his elbows and twist around.

“Fuck you!”

“That's the spirit.” 

Large hands settled on his hips, turning him over with effortless ease. Nick blinked, trying to clear his vision even as his eyes were inexorably drawn to Renard's cock. Shame and lust and anger were bleeding together, becoming indistinguishable as his cock throbbed in the leather strap. The other man's gaze swept down his body, an almost physical caress.

“You should see yourself, Grimm. All flushed and sweaty and desperate to get fucked.” 

Renard didn't sound quite as unaffected as before, voice rough and husky. Nick wasn't given the opportunity to reply because from one second to the next his lips were claimed in a relentless kiss. Then Renard was against him, tongue in his mouth, hips bearing down until their groins met. It was all Nick could do not to scream with frustration. Then Renard reached between them and there was pressure against his hole – blunt and slick, thicker than fingers. Not nearly enough, not yet, and he was arching off the mattress, trying to impale himself. The slide in was slow, steady, and Renard had broken the kiss, pulled back a little, eyes fixed on Nick's face. Then all movement stilled.

“You are mine, Grimm. Your body knows it. That's why – this – feels so good.”

A sharp shift forward and Renard was fully settled. Nick panted, thoughts scattering as soon as he tried to form words. Good was … not it. Maddening.Too much and not enough all at once. His ass was clenching around around Renard's cock, trying to adjust to the penetration, the depth of it, the thickness. Surprisingly tender fingers brushed Nick's cheek, his neck. 

“You are mine, Nick.”

Then Sean was fucking him, deep and hard perfect. Reaching up to grasp those broad shoulders, Nick let go. He was barely aware when the pressure around his cock eased. Then there was nothing but pleasure, the white-out of orgasm crashing through body and mind.

*

Nick was pleasantly adrift. The mattress shifted and then the warmth of Sean's body was gone. He made a protesting noise at the loss of contact, but couldn't find the energy to move. A minute or so later the other man returned with a moist towel. Luxuriating in the sensation of being cleaned, Nick stretched. He felt pleasantly wrung out, relaxed and sore in all the right ways. Eyes cracking open, he grinned.

“I thought you were going to tie me up.”

“I didn't need to, did I?”

Renard ducked as Nick aimed a playful punch at his shoulder.

“No need to sound so smug. And don't think I'll forget that you promised to buy me a toy.”

A low chuckle and finally Sean was getting back into bed, tossing the soiled towel onto the floor with uncharacteristic negligence. Nick sighed happily as he was enveloped by strong arms. He turned into his Zauerbiest's embrace, two pairs of arms and legs sorting themselves into familiar comfort. Sean pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, nose buried in Nick's hair, scenting his lover.

“I wouldn't dare. Now go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll have to figure out what to do with those books.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> No Grimms were harmed in the writing of this fanfic! Established relationship: it's all fun and games and the boys being kinky. This is just dub-con play – not the real thing.


End file.
